


SWTOR: Sensitive Cargo

by Prospero101



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-20
Updated: 2018-03-20
Packaged: 2019-04-05 04:24:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,198
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14036112
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Prospero101/pseuds/Prospero101
Summary: The contents of a mysterious Sith cache draw together disparate forces from across the Star Wars galaxy. But the cargo just might have its own goals.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is basically an attempt to bring together a lot of my favorite PCs from the Old Republic MMORPG into one contiguous narrative. Ambitious, but I think it really pays off. I hope you like it!

“I gotta say, I’m not exactly comfortable with this job, Captain,” said Corso Riggs, fidgeting in the copilot’s seat of their trusty XS Freighter.

“Really, Corso? Are you nervous?” drawled Vex Kalway, with typical sarcasm. “Because honestly I have a hard time telling your nervous flopsweat from your usual musk.”

Corso, as usual, brushed off the joke. “Seriously, Captain. It can’t just be me. What did Risha say about it when you told her?”

“‘How in space did you get this holofrequency?’” Vex quoted. He shrugged and leaned back in his chair, fingers threaded behind his head. He always felt most at peace in hyperspace, with the corona of bent space-time and the gentle hum of the engine. It felt good to hit the spacelanes again. 

Still, Corso wasn’t wrong. Getting in between two Hutts feuding over a magnetically sealed box wasn’t exactly a recipe for a simple, point-to-point sort of job. But Nem’ro the Hutt could be very persuasive. And rich.

“Do we even know what’s inside?” Corso continued.

“No,” Vex allowed. “Near as I can tell, neither does Nem’ro. But it’s got Imperial stamps all over it, so I doubt it’s a basket of nexu kittens.”

“And we’re okay with just handing it over to a Hutt? What if it’s a planet-busting superweapon or something?” Corso nervously rubbed at the back of his neck. “Feels like those things are everywhere.”

“Corso,” Vex chided. He leaned over and clapped his best friend playfully on the back. “Why worry about today’s galaxy-shattering mistake when we’re just going to make a bigger one tomorrow?”

“‘We,” Corso huffed. But he did crack a smile. “It’s always ‘we’ with you, Captain.”

 

* * *

 

Ghereth Maddox, Jedi Knight, didn’t care for General Var Suthra very much. As a Miraluka, Ghereth’s Force awareness pulled double duty as his sense of sight, and vague impressions of those around him constantly prodded at the back of his mind. His impression of Var Suthra was of wild internal panic and frankly alarming incompetence. 

He felt the strong presence of his Padawan, Kira Carsen, standing behind him. Usually her presence was warm, if a bit nervous and jittery. But currently she was cool. Detached. Bored. Ghereth found he could hardly blame her for drifting.

He also could faintly feel the presence of his loyal astromech, T7-01. As a droid, T7 didn’t leave much impression in the Force, but he could hear his droid’s processor ticking over steadily. As usual, T7 was recording everything.

General Var Suthra leaned over the Defender’s holoterminal and pressed a few buttons. The display lit up, showing an image of a spacer with shaggy hair and a cocky expression. “Our target is Vexildan Kalway, known smuggler and occasional Republic privateer. He’s carrying some very sensitive cargo through Republic space on his way to Hutta. Needless to say, we can’t let his cargo fall into the Cartel’s hands.”

T7 burbled with excitement from the corner. “T7 = Follows Vex Kalway’s exploits // Vex Kalway = Found Nok Drayen’s treasure // T7 = Big fan!”

Kira huffed and crossed her arms. “Why are the cute ones always bad?”

Ghereth smiled and glanced over his shoulder at his former Padawan. “Kira, surely you have better taste than a crooked spacer?”

Kira cocked her head and squinted at her Master. “Did...did Master Jedi just crack wise at me?”

Ghereth couldn’t suppress a chuckle. “Maybe he did.” His expression sobered, and he turned back to Var Suthra. “If Kalway has worked with the Republic before, perhaps he’ll be amenable to reason. Why don’t we hail him and see if we can talk it out?”

Var Suthra shook his head. “Kalway has a history of being...unpredictable. He did some good work for the Republic, but his operations tended to go in unexpected directions. Senators Dodonna and Kayl have both advised me...independently, for some reason...that we should detain Kalway and get the facts. If he doesn’t know what he’s hauling, we can confiscate the cargo and let him go.” Var Suthra let the implication hang in the air.

“Do  _ we _ even know what he’s hauling,” asked Ghereth, though he was pretty sure he knew the answer.

Var Suthra straightened, clasping his arms behind his back. “I’m afraid that’s classified.”

“You have no idea, do you?” Kira teased, crossing her arms.

Var Suthra turned back to the holoterminal and brought up the galaxy map. His silence was as damning as anything else. “Odds are good that Kalway will drop out of hyperspace near Carrick Station for fuel and supplies. You’re to apprehend him there, and rendezvous with us at the station when you’ve secured the package.”

An unsettling sensation prickled at the edge of Ghereth’s senses. Out of the corner of his awareness, he felt Kira shudder. He wasn’t the only one to feel the coming darkness. He sighed wearily and turned back to the general. “Very well, General, we’ll do it your way for now.” He turned to leave the room, but paused. He glanced over his shoulder at the general. “General, if I could ask one last question?”

Var Suthra visibly clenched. “You can ask, certainly.”

“It’s not another misplaced superweapon, is it?”

 

* * *

 

_ “This is Imperial Intelligence vessel X-70  _ Phantom _ requesting permission to dock.” _

_ “Docking permissions granted. Welcome aboard the  _ Khem Val,  _ Cipher Nine. Darth Zhar’il has requested your presence on the bridge as soon as you’ve been briefed.” _

_ “Tell him I’ll be along shortly.”  _

Cipher Agent Vax Kalway, better known to Imperial Intelligence as Cipher Nine, stepped away from the bridge console. He watched his small modified luxury vessel be swallowed into the hangar of the immense Star Destroyer  _ Khem Val. _ Another day, another Darth. At least this particular lightning-swinging megalomaniac wasn’t wasting Imperial Intelligence’s time. Not entirely, at any rate.

Vax left the cockpit and went down the hall toward the holoterminal. His was a small vessel, but it felt huge and empty with his companions scattered. Keeper would only tolerate his dalliances with bounty hunters and rogue officers for so long. It was a Cipher’s lot to work alone.

He went over to the holoprojector and keyed to the appropriate encrypted frequency. To his surprise, Watcher Two fizzled to life above the table. He should probably say something. “Hey there, beautiful?” Too forward. “Fancy meeting you here?” Too distant. When seduction and flirtation were mostly tools to manipulate, pulling off the real thing was surprisingly difficult. 

Watcher Two took a few moments to make sure the transmission was secure, then finally looked up. She opened her mouth to speak, but the words caught in her throat. Her eyes lit up when she saw Vax. “Cipher Nine! If I’d known you were leading this operation, I would’ve...well, that’s no matter. How are you?”

“I’m doing well,” Vax replied. A dreadful lie, but not the worst one he would tell before the day was out. “And yourself?”

“Things are...going about as well as can be expected,” Watcher Two hedged vaguely. A long, cold silence stretched after her words.

Vax broke it the only way he knew how. “Watcher Two, why was six afraid of seven?”

Watcher Two rolled her eyes. “Not another one of your jokes, Cipher Nine. Because seven eight nine. I believe I first heard that in the exercise yard at the juvenile academy.”

Vax crossed his arms. “On the contrary. Six is afraid of seven because seven has  _ cold, dead eyes.” _

Watcher Two didn’t laugh, but a smile quirked on her lips.

Vax leaned forward over the holoterminal. “I will make you laugh one of these days, Watcher Two. And it will be glorious.”

Watcher Two stopped trying to suppress her smile. “I’m looking forward to it.” Then her expression sobered, and she fidgeted nervously with her hands for a few seconds. “I forgot how much I missed this, Cipher Nine. I...I…” She faltered, grabbing at something off-camera, using it to bear her weight as she cradled her head with her free hand. She made no sound, but she practically vibrated with pain.

Vax’s fists clenched. It was all he could do not to pound the holoterminal until it showed him a better image. There was nothing he could do, not from sixty parsecs away. “Watcher Two, can you read me? What’s happening? Watcher Two, acknowledge!”

Watcher Two eventually managed to wrestle off the pain and straighten. She was flushed and breathing hard, as if she’d just run a marathon. “I’m fine. I’ve just been occasionally getting headaches, that’s all. I’ve not been sleeping well lately.” She made another attempt to smile, but it came out as a pained grimace. “Perhaps we should focus on the task at hand?”

Vax fumed for a few seconds before he could reply. “Fine. But promise me you’ll see a medical droid as soon as we’re finished?”

Watcher Two nodded. “I promise.” She turned back to her computers and databanks, visibly relaxing as she did so. “So then. Darth Zhar’il claims to have discovered evidence of an old Imperial cache recently fallen into the hands of Kretto the Hutt, a mid-level gangster operating out of Coronet City on Corellia.  Naturally, all records that the Dark Lord cites to prove his claim are sealed, clearance level ULTRAVIOLET. Only the Dark Council has access.”

Vax nodded, slowly pacing in front of the holoterminal. “So, a dubious claim, at best. What do we know of Darth Zhar’il?”

Watcher Two shook her head. “Nothing concrete. Recently acquired a Dark Council seat in the usual manner: killing everyone above him until he grew to fill the unoccupied space. Rumors abound that he was once a slave on the Dark Temple excavation. Funnily enough, those who purvey such rumors frequently end up dead the next morning.”

Vax idly scratched at the scar on his cheek. “Do we know the contents of the cache?”

Watcher Two shrugged. “As you might have guessed, its contents are also classified ULTRAVIOLET. You’ll have to ask Zhar’il, if he deigns to tell you.”

“I can hazard a few guesses,” Vax muttered. “Each less pleasant than the last. I’m to discover the contents of the package and insure that Zhar’il doesn’t burn the Empire to the ground trying to get it.”

Watcher Two smiled and nodded. “It’s almost as if you’ve dealt with Sith Lords before. Good luck, Cipher Nine.” She cut the transmission and fizzled out of existence.

 

* * *

 

Darth Zhar’il paced slowly in front of the expansive window on the bridge of the  _ Khem Val.  _ His razor-thin Chiss features, mostly shrouded by his hood, were vaguely visible in the transparent plasteel, as if made of the starry expanse behind it. So close, yet so far away.

Here he was, a Darth, a member of the Dark Council. Power crackled between his fingers in a mere second’s thought. He had the Empire at his feet. Yet he never felt more than a hair’s breadth away from the slave pens. It could all be wrenched from his grasp in seconds, sending him spiralling back down to the cortosis mines or the Dark Temple excavation.

But not if he got his hands on that ancient cache. The contents of that box would cement his power base in a layer of duracrete. He would never have to bow and scrape, to whimper subserviently at some charisma-free Dark Lord in a tacky mask.

Captain Javros, commander of the  _ Khem Val _ ’s day-to-day operations, politely cleared his throat. “My lord? The liaison from Imperial Intelligence has just arrived.”

Zhar’il turned toward the captain and nodded. “Very well, Captain. Let’s see what the Empire’s most capable parasites have to say.”

The Intelligence agent, along with select members of the ship’s crew, were gathered around the bridge holoterminal. The agent put away his datapad and bowed at the waist when Zhar’il approached. “My lord, I am designated Cipher Nine. It’s an honor.”

“Cipher Nine,” Zhar’il drawled. He observed the agent closely. He was a human, because of course he was. His face was blank and impassive. His emotions were hidden behind a well-crafted wall of calculations and random thought. “I see the Sith hardly have a monopoly on ridiculous names.”

“I am what the Empire designates me to be, my lord,” Cipher Nine replied coolly, before bending over the holoterminal.

The squirming little womp rat knew how to run the maze. Very well. Save the mind games for another time. Zhar’il clasped his hands behind his back. “You may begin, Cipher Nine.”

The holoterminal booted up, and an image of the cache fizzled onto the display. It was a relatively plain durasteel box, about the size and shape of a refrigerator. Each surface was stamped with an out-of-date Imperial crest, along with “FROM THE SEAT OF THE EMPEROR” written in Basic and Huttese. The only remarkable thing about the object appeared to be the locking mechanism, which seemed welded on after the box’s manufacture. 

“This appears to be a typical Imperial technological cache of three centuries ago,” said Cipher Nine as he continued fiddling with the holoterminal. “The only remarkable feature is the lock.” The hologram spun and zoomed, showing the lock in full detail: a simple readout displaying a smooth waveform, above a suite of four buttons. “From what Intelligence can gather, it is an extremely sophisticated voice lock. Accurate to within sixteen decimal places, it can foil any known droid’s voice simulation software. It’s a technology beyond anything we’ve seen from the Republic, the Empire, or the Hutt Cartel.” Cipher Nine paused, possibly for dramatic effect. “Carbon dating matches certain samples we’ve recovered from Rakata Prime.”

“Star Forge technology?” Zhar’il mused. He leaned over the holoterminal and observed the lock closely. The final obstacle between himself and perfect independence. 

“Certainly Rakatan, my lord,” Cipher Nine agreed.

“What do we know of the cache’s history?” Zhar’il asked.

“It’s...unfortunately spotty, my lord.” Cipher Nine replied warily. “The last time it was in Imperial hands was two hundred and fifty years ago, when it came into the possession of one Grand Moff Atticus Kilran. After the Moff’s unfortunate end, it drifted through various underworld troves. It was briefly possessed by Nok Drayen, before it was stolen by agents working for the GenoHaradan, who lost it in a debris field on the Corellian Run. It was recently purchased at auction by Kretto the Hutt, on Corellia. But it was stolen en route, by parties unknown. Our scouts managed to tag the vessel. It appears to be headed for Carrick Station in the heart of Republic space.”

“Very well,” Zhar’il nodded, straightening. He turned back to Javros. “Captain, plot a course. We’ll board the station and take possession of the cache while it’s being unloaded.”

Captain Javros visibly balked. “My lord...if I might be so bold, I must remind you that the _Khem_ _Val_ only carries the standard complement of 500 troops. We don’t begin to have the manpower for an assault on Carrick Station!”

Zhar’il waved a dismissive hand. “As I understand it, the  _ Naga Sadow _ and the  _ Ravager II _ are both in the sector, correct?”

“Yes, my lord, but they’re both currently engaged in -”

Zhar’il snarled, lashing out with his hand and his awareness, closing both around the captain’s impudent throat. He yanked the officer toward him until they were nose to nose. “I could not care less where they’re engaged, Captain. Send out a priority alert. Dark Council executive order. Rendezvous at my location within one standard day or face the consequences.” He released the captain and turned back toward the window.

“At once, Darth Zhar’il,” wheezed Javros, staggering back down the bridge. Cipher Nine stood ramrod-straight, still utterly impassive.

Zhar’il glared out into the vacuum of space, tendrils of dark power curling at his feet. “We will get me that box.  _ Or you will die trying.” _


	2. Chapter 2

“Looks like we’re going to come out near Carrick Station, Captain,” Corso said, bending over the readouts on the console. “Whaddaya say we make a quick stop for fuel and supplies before we hit Hutt Space?”

“And  _ liquor! _ ” Vex crowed in agreement. “All we’ve got left is that weird spiced ale that Akaavi gave us. Stuff gives me the hiccups.” He leaned over to activate the cargo hold intercom.

“Gave  _ you, _ ” Corso corrected. “For crying out loud, Captain, it was in a velvet-lined box!”

“Stow it where the stars don’t shine, Corso,” Vex replied flatly, then activated the intercom. “Bowdaar? How’s our precious, precious cargo?”

A disgruntled Wookiee voice roared over the speaker. “ _ It’s a giant metal box, Captain!! It’s not exactly going to get up and walk away!!” _

“Solid. We’re going to stop by Carrick Station real quick. Keep an eye on it for us, okay?”

_ “Bring back snacks!!” _

Vex settled back into the pilot’s chair as they skidded out of hyperspace. Carrick Station loomed in front of them, framed by the perennial two or three Republic capital ships docked there. “Bowie says the cargo’s in good shape.”

Corso cocked an eyebrow. “‘Bowie?’”

Vex shrugged. “I’m trying it out. What do you think?”

Corso winced. “Maybe don’t say it to his face.”

The ship settled into their usual hangar with a quiet hiss of hydraulics. Vex clapped Corso on the back as he got up to leave the cockpit. “Keep her warm for me, Corso. Be back in a flash.”

Vex strolled through the corridors of his ship, whistling his favorite cantina number. His whistling trailed off when he passed the engine room compartment. Every time he went by he kept expecting to see her out of the corner of his eye, endlessly fiddling with the hyperdrive console. She’d always turn to him with a coy little smile, sarcastic barb at the ready. Vex shook himself out of his reverie and trotted down the ramp into the hangar.

Standing in front of the turbolift door were two Jedi, one female and one male, built like an hourglass and a brick shithouse respectively. The male had his lightsaber drawn and activated.

“Oh, space me,” Vex muttered as they approached.

Back in the cockpit, Corso groaned when he saw two Jedi haul Vex away. He leaned over and slapped the intercom button. “Bowdaar? The Captain got arrested again.”

_ “You owe me twenty credits!!” _

 

* * *

 

“Thank you for coming quietly, Captain Kalway,” Ghereth said as he clicked the force-cuffs closed around the smuggler’s wrists. “We’ll make sure to tell General Var Suthra about your cooperation.”

“General Var Who Now?” Kalway asked. Ghereth didn’t respond. He grabbed Kalway by the forearm and began escorting him to the nearest Republic Security station. “Hey, watch the jacket! It’s Corellian leather.”

Ghereth said nothing. His awareness was distracted by an oppressive, looming darkness that settled like a lead apron over his shoulders. Carrick Station seemed to be operating normally…

“Either of you mind telling me what exactly I’ve been arrested for?” Ghereth dimly heard Kalway run his mouth at a thousand kilometers an hour. “It’s so gosh-darn hard to keep track sometimes.”

There weren’t any other operations in the offing, as least as far as Ghereth knew. And his clearance was just as good as General Var Suthra’s…

“Hey Jedi, if you’re a massive tool, don’t say anything.”

Of course, nobody saw Darth Angral coming either. It was always so difficult to pierce the veil clearly enough for specifics…

Kalway cackled until Kira flicked him on the ear. “Ow! What the hell was that for?”

“You deserve it,” Kira huffed as she steered him into the security station.

“What, for that joke?” Kalway sighed. “Yeah, that’s fair.”

Kira shoved Vex into a force cage, then went back out into the corridor to speak to Ghereth. “Master, this feeling cannot just be me.” She hugged herself, as if a chilly breeze had just blown through the station. “Something’s...not right.”

Ghereth nodded. “You’ve always had good instincts, Kira. Something’s definitely very, very wrong.” He sighed and turned away. “I’ll go speak with General Var Suthra and see if there’s anything we should be aware of. Can you see what Captain Kalway knows about his cargo?”

Kira rolled her eyes. “Look at me. Kira Carsen, big bad Jedi Knight. A Padawan no longer! How do I still get stuck with the scutwork that won’t stop staring at my chest?”

Ghereth spread his hands in surrender. “Fine. You can go navigate Var Suthra, the SIS, and the rest of the Republic bureaucracy while I interrogate the smuggler.”

Kira sighed and crossed her arms. “Well, when you put it that way…”

Ghereth smiled and patted her on the shoulder. “I’ll see you in a little while.”

Ghereth was most of the way toward the SIS post when every holocomm, billboard, and terminal on Carrick Station lit up with the same image. It was of a razor-thin Chiss in voluminous purple and black robes. Ghereth could feel the stench of his dark power even over the holocomm.

_ “Attention Republic stooges, specifically the stooges of Carrick Station. This is Darth Zhar’il, Dark Lord of the Sith, representative of the Dark Council, and your worst nightmare personified. You have recently come into the possession of something that belongs to me. For your own sake, I suggest you remain calm, surrender now, and prepare to be boarded. Or don’t, see if I care.” _

The darkness pressing on Ghereth’s awareness suddenly crystallized, moments before the station was rocked by turbolaser fire.

 

* * *

 

Zhar’il stepped away from the holotransmitter just in time to watch the  _ Khem Val _ drop out of hyperspace directly next to the station.

“My lord,” exclaimed a random bridge officer. “The  _ Naga Sadow _ and the  _ Ravager II _ are in place to intercept the  _ Telos  _ and the  _ Gav Daragon _ , respectively.”

“Turbolasers are primed,” cried another.

“Fire,” Zhar’il spat, staring out at the station through the bridge window. Shielding a station of this size from a sustained barrage of turbolaser fire was all but impossible: green blaster bolts lanced across the hull of the station, causing bursts of electricity and the occasional explosion of flame.

“Captain Javros, prepare your men to board,” Zhar’il said. The captain saluted and scurried away. Zhar’il turned toward his Intelligence hanger-on, Cipher Nine. The agent stood, arms crossed, looking impenetrably at the station as it rocked and buckled under the barrage. 

“Shall we put Intelligence’s legendary infiltration expertise to the test, Cipher?” teased Zhar’il. The agent looked at him blandly. “I want you to board under cover of stealth and determine our target’s precise location and supervise its delivery. If you meet whoever stole my cargo, I want them dead.”

Zhar’il caught only a moment’s hesitation before the agent bowed. “At once, my lord.” 

Zhar’il went down to the lower decks to join one of the shuttles bound for the station. He was flanked by three troopers on each side. He closed his eyes a moment to probe their feelings. Most of them were excited at the prospect of action. A few had never gone into battle before. More than one was nervous that a Sith Lord was within choking distance. All perfectly understandable, if mildly seditious.

The shuttle flew the short distance from ship to station, juking and looping a few times to dodge enemy fighters and anti-spacecraft guns. They settled into one of the hangars. The soldiers surrounding Zhar’il buzzed into action, moving to slice open the sealed hangar door with a plasma torch.

The station shuddered and groaned around them as the battle ensued. Zhar’il could feel flashes of rage from lesser Sith and desperate attempts at serenity by the few Jedi on board the station. This place was much more poorly manned than he’d anticipated.

The hangar bay blast door was shrouded in dust and smoke as the troopers finished their labor. Zhar’il supposed he should’ve expected the Jedi that came flying out of the debris, lightsaber ablaze. He barely brought up his own saber in time to block. Their sabers clashed, sending flashes of sparks across the hangar.

The Jedi was nose-to-nose with Zhar’il now. He was a Miraluka with scarred features and a boy scout’s disposition. “I don’t know who you are or why you’re here,” he spat. “But your choices have brought you here. Surrender or die, Sith.”

“Don’t know why I’m-” spluttered Zhar’il. His free hand crackled with purple lightning as he sent a bolt directly into the Jedi’s chest, sending him flying backward. “ _ Have none of you been paying attention?!” _

 

* * *

 

Vax deactivated his stealth field generator, fizzling back into visibility on one of Carrick Station’s maintenance catwalks. Preliminary scans showed most life signs on the station condensed in the expected areas - troopers moving to protect choke points, civilians headed for the escape pods - except for two. Two of them were moving down an obscure back corridor near the shuttle bays. A hunch told him that this might be their thief trying to make his escape. Vax learned long ago to trust his hunches.

He settled into a prone position, sniper rifle aimed at the corridor below. If the scans were accurate, those life signs should be headed this way within two minutes. Vax gazed through his scope and settled into a sniper’s favorite pastime: waiting.

He almost jerked when his comlink buzzed. He thumbed the activator in his ear. A familiar voice rushed in.

_ “Cipher Nine? Watcher Two here. You missed your last check-in. Status report?” _

Vax did his best to remain professional as he detailed a series of increasingly ridiculous events. “Darth Zhar’il has press-ganged two other Imperial cruisers and used them to board Carrick Station in pursuit of the package. I’m waiting on the smuggler who stole it now.”

He could almost picture Watcher Two’s face contorting with incredulous rage.  _ “Board...board Carrick Station?! A Republic fleet infiltration operation has been in the offing for months! Weeks of planning, thousands of credits, cooperation from three different ministries! This is beyond the pale, even for a Darth of the Dark Council! The Minister of Intelligence will be livid, say nothing for Darth Marr and Darth Malgus!” _

Vax couldn’t hold back a smile. “You’re so cute when you’re flustered.”

_ “I do not begin to have the cycles to spare on you right now, Cipher Nine! Do your best to dig yourself out of this hole Zhar’il has dug. I’m pulling the plug on this operation right this moment. Watcher Two out.” _

Vax didn’t have much time to reflect on how well and truly fucked the entire show was before he saw two figures come down the corridor below. He swiveled his rifle to track them. One male, one female. The female was a Jedi, if her lightsaber and utter lack of humor were any indication. The male was more difficult to pin down. He wore a leather jacket typical of Hutt-space cargo runners. The female Jedi had him in force-cuffs and was roughly guiding him down the corridor. The smuggler who stole the cache, perhaps? Vax focused the scope on the smuggler’s face, then froze.

It was like looking into a mirror. Vax could see the same facial structure, the same eye color, even the same shaggy hair. They weren’t identical. Vax was relatively certain he hadn’t found his clone or long-lost twin. But there was definitely a resemblance. A family resemblance?

Vax had always felt alone in the galaxy. Borne of two Sith, he was abandoned to military school for his lack of Force sensitivity. He was groomed for Intelligence. Destined to work alone. Always alone. The idea that he just might have family sent his mind reeling.

The cold steel of a blaster barrel pressed to the back of his head jerked him out of his reverie. He glanced at his scope again, but the two figures were long gone. “Hello, Cipher Nine,” said a quiet male voice. “Always nice to see you.”

“Agent Shan,” Vax replied coolly. “How long has it been? Since Belsavis?”

“Don’t you bring up Belsavis,” said Theron Shan, scowling. “I still haven’t paid you back for CZ-198.”

Vax chuckled humorlessly. “It flatters me that you keep such careful score.”

Theron gestured with his blaster. Vax felt the barrel brush through his hair. “Stand up very carefully. I don’t want to have to ventilate you. At least not before we’ve had a nice, long chat.”

“Of course.” Vax slowly made to stand. This gave him the opportunity to reach for the vibroknife hidden in his boot. In a flash, he whirled, stabbing Theron in the thigh and thumbing the taser on the pommel, sending the enemy agent twitching to the catwalk floor. Vax swiftly activated his stealth field generator and vanished from sight.

 

* * *

 

“There is no way in hell that I’m leaving him to deal with all this by himself!” Kira muttered bitterly as she dragged Vex roughly down the corridor.

“What, do you two have a thing going on?” Vex asked. He’d given up protesting, but so help him if the leather got cracked… “I didn’t think Jedi were allowed to have things going on.”

Kira only glared at him.

“I’m not hearing a nooooooo!” Vex said in a singsong voice. Kira flicked him on the ear again. “OW-would you stop doing that??”

“I really don’t have the time to put up with you right now, Captain.” As if to punctuate her statement, the station rumbled with yet another explosion. Vex could faintly hear blaster fire and shouting voices, even the clash of lightsabers. 

“Please. Call me Vex.” He treated her to his most dashing smile.

Kira rolled her eyes and shoved him toward a shuttle bay door. “Nice name. Name yourself after what you do to every woman you meet?”

“Don’t worry. They’re just feelings. They’ll heal.” Vex spared time from checking her out to actually take note of where they were. “Wait, what exactly are we doing here? Shouldn’t we be headed for the escape pods? Oh, please tell me we’re headed for the escape pods.”

“The disappointments continue, Vex,” Kira said as she gestured toward the door. “You’re going to wait in there like a good little prisoner while I go help my Master.”

“Oh, so I just wait for some broody Sith character to show up and filet me in a nice brown sauce?” Vex tried to shoulder his way past her. “You go martyr yourself at your boyfriend’s feet, see if I care. I’m getting the hell out of here!”

Before Kira could respond, they both spotted a squad of Imperial troops headed down the hallway toward them. “Darth Zhar’il wants a clean sweep! No survivors!” cried an officer at the front, flanked by half a dozen troopers on each side.

“Oh, hell,” Kira sighed. She pulled a gnarly-looking double-bladed lightsaber from her belt. She shoved Vex into the alcove of the recessed door. “You get down. And don’t. Go. Anywhere.”

Before Vex could crack wise in reply, she was gone, carving her way into the Imperial squad. “Holy shit,” Vex breathed as he watched her go. The Imps fell around her like dominoes with poor fashion sense. There was something bizarrely sexy about a woman who could kick your ass.

When the last of the Imperials fell, Kira came back over. Flushed and panting from the fight, she reached down to help him up. “Come on, we’re -”

Then the door at the other end of the corridor exploded inward, allowing Imperial troops to pour in. Vex estimated three or four squads before he lost count.

He scowled up at Kira, raising his wrists and rattling the force-cuffs in her face. “Will you  _ please?? _ ”

“Fine!” Kira snapped, and hurriedly unlocked the cuffs. She pulled a fallen blaster to her with the Force and tossed it to Vex. “Don’t you make me regret this.”

Vex fired, nailing an approaching officer between the eyes. “Gorgeous, I get the feeling we’re all going to have a lot of regrets when this is over.”

How so many Imp troops could board the station so fast was beyond Vex, but he focused on the task at hand. He stayed in cover by the shuttle bay door, peeking out for choice, precise shots against the encroaching soldiers. 

Kira waded into the melee, the green blades of her saberstaff gleaming among a hundred red blaster bolts. She paused, concentrated, and sent a shockwave of Force power reverberating through the crowd. Vex leaned out and fanned the Imps in midair, trying to ventilate as many of them as he could. 

Kira turned to face the next squad of troopers that poured in through the blown-out door, but Vex grabbed her hand. “What are you doing?!” she cried.

“We’re wasting time! We’ve got to get out of here!” Vex yelled over his shoulder as he took off running with her in tow.

“ _ I know how to run without you grabbing my hand!” _

 

* * *

This Sith was extremely strong in the Force. He gathered lightning around him like a Tesla coil, only using his lightsaber to swat aside Ghereth’s attacks.

Ghereth’s defense nearly buckled under one such barrage of dark energy. He shifted into the more balanced Shii-Cho form, stepping around the Sith’s guard and cracking him across the face with the hilt of his lightsaber. The cacophony of lightning abruptly came to a halt as the Sith slumped over in a daze.

Ghereth paused, panting, holding the gleaming blue blade of his lightsaber to the Sith’s neck. “This is your last chance, Sith. Surrender now, and the Jedi Council will do its best to help you.”

The Sith’s shoulders heaved in a series of dry chuckles. “Why you sanctimonious…” Ghereth sensed a great condensation of power, but before he could retaliate the Sith made a grand heaving gesture, propelling Ghereth across the central chamber of the station, sending him crashing into the towering pillar in the center of the room.

Ghereth slid down the pillar with a groan, destroyed holographic displays tumbling and sparking around him. His awareness was clogged with pain and frustration. The Sith’s defenses seemed impenetrable, a bottomless well of hatred ready to drown all the innocents on the station.

He refused to give into his anger. He had to focus.  _ There is no passion, there is serenity. _ Think of all the lives that depended on him. The countless innocents on the station whose names he’d never know. General Var Suthra and a dozen well-trained SIS agents, each with families and friends depending on their critical work. Kira.

_ Kira. _

Ghereth summoned all of his remaining strength and made a flying leap from the crater in the pillar, slamming straight into the Sith as he gloated at the top of the stairs. The battle began anew. But this time, Ghereth was the aggressor.

The aggressive Juyo form was usually a touch too acrobatic for Ghereth’s typically stalwart, defensive style. But dodging lightning bolts required thinking outside the box. Lightning cascaded around him, arcing from the Sith’s outstretched fingers and deflected by Ghereth’s lightsaber. The Sith snarled, pressing the attack, giving in to his rage, accessing more power at the sacrifice of control. The only opening Ghereth needed.

A female voice rang clearly through the cacophony around them.  _ “Hands off my Master, you son of a Hutt!” _

 

* * *

 

Zhar’il only had enough time to glance over his shoulder in the direction of the voice to see a whirling dervish of green lethality before it raked across his back, sending him stumbling to his knees. He let the pain feed his rage, even as the stench of rapidly-cauterized blood filled his nostrils. He saw the whirling saber fly back to its owner, a redheaded female human. 

The Jedi he’d been fighting held his lightsaber close to Zhar’il’s throat. “Kira, didn’t I tell you to look after the smuggler?”

“Does that mean you’re not happy to see me?” retorted the female, who was evidently named Kira.

“I didn’t say that.” 

“You rang?” came another voice even more unbearably smug than the first Jedi’s, were that possible. It was another human, a male in a leather jacket wielding two stolen Imperial blasters.

The Jedi seemed surprised. Zhar’il stayed silent, waiting for his opening. “Captain Kalway? Shouldn’t you have cut and run by now?”

The male human shrugged. “Figured this would be as good a way as any to get back on Var Suthra’s timecard. God knows I could use the work after all this.”

“I’ll put in a good word for you,” said the Miraluka Jedi. He turned back to Zhar’il. He had quite a good glare going for a man without eyes.

The smuggler gestured at Zhar’il. “So what do we do with the blue guy?”

“ _ Blue guy?”  _ finally spat Zhar’il. “Why, you racist…” He slowly staggered to his feet. Purple power began crackling between his fingers. “All you had to do was surrender...and give...me...the cache. But noooooooooo!!” Before the Jedi could retaliate, he lashed out, imprisoning them all in a whirlwind of energy. Then he did what all proper Sith do when a battle wasn’t going the way they’d hoped. He started running.

He raised his wrist comlink to his lips, but was dismayed to find it already buzzing with activity. 

_ “ _ Ravager II _ has been routed-” _

_ “ _ Gav Daragon  _ now on intercept trajectory-” _

_ “Three Republic dreadnoughts on hailing frequency!” _

_ “Fighter carrier just dropped out of hyperspace-” _

“Enough!!” Zhar’il snapped, generating instant radio silence. “All units, break away and regroup at the rendezvous point.  _ Khem Val,  _ focus turbolasers on the station. I want it in pieces by the time I get there.” He switched frequencies to growl directly at that Intelligence knucklehead. “Cipher Nine, I had better see that cache resting comfortably in my cargo hold. Zhar’il out.”

 

* * *

 

Vax didn’t relish the idea of sacrificing a squad of veteran Imperial troopers at the feet of an angry Wookiee, but it was the only way to bring the savage creature out of his guard post. While the Wookiee and his dreadlocked friend made short work of the troopers in the docking bay, Vax snuck onto the ship under cover of stealth.

It was a fairly standard XS freighter, all things considered. A number of illegal modifications made to the hyperdrive and sublight engines. The captain’s quarters was a mess and generated odors that Vax didn’t care to identify. He would be remiss if he didn’t scatter a few listening devices about, right? To better know one’s adversary, of course.

He made his way back to the cargo hold. The cache was there, looking exactly as described. They were even so kind as to leave it on a repulsorlift dolly for ease of transport. Vax activated his comlink. “Besh Squad? You are clear to deploy. Draw them away from the loading ramp.” He switched frequencies. “Cipher Nine to Darth Zhar’il: I have the package. Securing it now.”

He switched frequencies one more time. “Cipher Nine to Watcher Two. Acknowledge. I’m told Ithor is lovely this time of year.”

_ “Lovely if you enjoy tornadoes and bland casserole. Cipher, with all due respect, what in space are you still doing on that station?” _

Vax glanced over his shoulder. He could still hear roaring and blaster fire. Still, there wasn’t much time. “I have the cache in my possession. It appears to be exactly as Zhar’il described.”

_ “You can’t possibly be asking…” _

“I am, Watcher. Requesting permission to extend the operation.”

_ “Eager to see Zhar’il’s next historic blunder?” _

“We both know that Intelligence needs to know the contents of this cache. It’s too dangerous to leave it to the Sith. Who else do we trust with a mission like this?”

Watcher Two sighed, sending a rush of static over the comm.  _ “Cipher, you can be so...intoxicatingly infuriating. Keeper won’t be happy.” _

“When was the last time Keeper was happy? Cipher Nine out.”

He managed to push the dolly bearing the cache down the ramp without incident. He spotted the Wookiee and the smuggler battling Besh Squad at the other end of the hangar.

“Make it quick, Bowie! We gotta find the Captain and vamoose!” cried the human with dreadlocks.

_ “What did you call me??!!”  _ roared the Wookiee.

 

* * *

 

By the time the whirlwind dissipated and Vex’s boots touched the deck of the station, the Sith was long gone. There was a loud sound of rending metal as the station suddenly careened at a thirty-degree angle. A line of explosions broke through the walls, destroyed most of the few remaining holographic displays.

“They’re bombarding the station!” cried Kira. “This whole place is falling apart!”

The other Jedi cursed and opened his comlink to the public channel. “I don’t know if anyone is still on this station, but you have to leave, now. The Sith are going to destroy it.” He scowled and looked around. “There’s no way we’ll get to the  _ Defender _ from here.”

“Come on,” Vex yelled, running down the nearest corridor. “We’ll take my ride!”

The three of them dashed down the hallway, explosions sounding all around them. The station rocked and bucked, tripping them up more than once.

He heard Kira talking into her comm. “T7, take the ship and get the hell out of here! We’ll comm you as soon as we can! Get going!”

“That droid can pilot a Corellian corvette by itself??” Vex hollered as they rounded the last corner. 

“And make you a Corellian Sunrise that’ll make your toes curl!” Kira replied with a smile.

The XS freighter loomed in the hangar in front of them. Vex could see Corso and Bowdaar mopping up the last few Imps trying to board. “Everybody in, let’s go!” He waved frantically as the four of them disappeared up the loading ramp. He followed them up and shut the ramp behind him. “Anybody touches my dejarik set, they’re gonna take a long walk out the airlock!”

Vex made a beeline for the cockpit, Corso and the Jedi following close behind. “At least we get to skip the preflight checks,” Vex muttered as he gunned the engine. The freighter hovered in place, turning around and dashing through the hangar force field just as Carrick Station shuddered and began to break apart. 

The ship emerged into a fevered space battle, but the Imps were too busy retreating to pay them any mind. He maneuvered his way through the debris and dueling capital ships, finally reaching clear enough space to make the jump to lightspeed.

The sudden calm flooded in on them with an almost audible thud. Vex got up from the pilot’s chair and turned toward the Jedi. “There. Now, would you be so kind as to tell me what the hell I’ve been hauling and why it’s so damned important?”

The Jedi shrugged and crossed his arms. “I’m afraid your guess is as good as mine, Captain.” He put out a hand to shake. “I don’t think we’ve been properly introduced. Ghereth Maddox, at your service.”

“Vex Kalway.” Vex took the offered hand and shook. “But I bet you already knew that.”

Ghereth nodded. “Pleasantries aside, do you mind if we take a look at what’s in your cargo hold?”

Vex shrugged. “Be my guest. That’s the only thing I was hauling, anyway.”

“About that,” said Kira, strolling purposefully into the cockpit. Vex found himself distracted by the pleasing way her robe settled around her figure. “The cargo hold’s empty. The box is gone.”


End file.
